


Pharmercy Freewrites

by freestylesmile



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Romance, sometimes smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:37:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freestylesmile/pseuds/freestylesmile
Summary: Same thing as my other freewrites: A collection of random one-shots for pharmercy. Rated for future chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

Fareeha was already yawning as she switched off the bathroom light and trudged into the bedroom. Arms stretching overhead, she couldn’t help but smile when she saw her girlfriend.

Angela was asleep and propped against the headboard, reading glasses still on and a book in her lap. Fareeha climbed slowly onto the bed on her knees. With both hands she carefully removed and folded the glasses. She leaned across the other woman to place them on her bedstand along with her book and switched off the lamp.

A slight change in the doctor’s breathing was followed by a soft, “Hm?”

Fareeha brushed a few blonde strands aside, noticing in the dim lighting that Angela’s eyes were partially opened. Fareeha cupped a hand under her chin, placing a kiss on her brow, on the tip of her nose, and, softly enough, on her lips.

Sliding under the blankets, Fareeha gently tugged Angela into her arms. “Come here.”

Angela murmured something and snuggled in against her, tucking her head underneath Fareeha’s chin, draping an arm over her side, and shuffling to tangle their legs. Fareeha pulled the blankets up around them and gathered Angela in her arms.

Rubbing a hand along Angela’s back, Fareeha closed her eyes and fell into peaceful sleep.


	2. The Missing Sweatshirt

None of the agents of Overwatch particularly enjoyed doing laundry, but even heroes had their share of mundane duties to uphold. There were plenty of machines in the base to serve the few remaining, which meant they could do their laundry at any time they chose.

Still, accidents happened. The challenge of missing socks, with the exception of Winston, and various other articles getting mixed up still presented itself to the agents. Thankfully it wasn't too difficult to figure out what belonged to who, and most people were fairly good about returning items as soon as they found one that wasn't theirs.

Fareeha, currently, was missing one of her sweatshirts.

She hoped whoever had acquired it would return it promptly, since it was one of her old favorites. It should have been clear it belonged to her as it was the same blue as the Raptora suit with a golden Udjat symbol right on the front.

However, after a month of its continued disappearance, she decided to do some investigating. Which is what brought her first to Hana's door. While the young adult wasn't too terrible at putting her laundry away, the occasional streaming session did sometimes put it low on the priority list.

After several knocks, the music inside was turned off and a moment later the door was opened.

“Sup, Cap?” Hana greeted, pushing the chair she'd rolled to the door back to her desk.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Nah, I'm on a break right now. Need something?”

Fareeha stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “I'm missing one of my sweatshirts. I wondered if it may have gotten mixed up with your clothes.”

“What's it look like?” After clicking a few buttons on the keyboard, Hana shoved her chair away from the desk and rolled all the way to her closet door.

“Blue. Udjat on the front.”

Hana's chair had just bumped against the door before she snorted a laugh and shoved herself back to her desk. “No, I don't have it. You mean you didn't give it to her?”

Fareeha's brow furrowed. “To who?”

Hana's eyes lit up with delight, and it seemed to take all of her willpower to keep from bursting out the answer.

Fareeha was about to question her further before she caught onto that knowing spark in the pilot's eyes. Fareeha sighed, a slight curve to her lips betraying the show of exasperation. “What do you want?”

“Lucio and I are playing Smash Brothers later tonight. You have to play with us.”

Fareeha frowned. “You know I'm not any good at those games. Why would you want me to play?”

“Because you're fun to hang out with, maybe? And you're always in the gym...” Hana pouted. “Just for an hour? We can play teams if you're more comfortable with that.”

Fareeha found herself smiling, touched by the young woman's honest desire to spend time together. “Alright, assuming we don't get called on a mission, I'll play for an hour. Now who has my sweatshirt?”

 

...

 

Fareeha found her way into the med bay and knocked on the office door within. It was a bit late in the evening, but it wasn't unusual to find certain people still awake at this time. “Doctor Ziegler? May I come in?”

“It's unlocked,” came the response.

Fareeha let herself in, closing the door behind her and clearing her throat. “Sorry to bother you, doctor, I was wondering if you-”

The doctor was writing on a large notepad, various papers spread out on her desk. She looked up at Fareeha's pause.

“Yes? What did you-?” She stopped in the same manner, eyes widening in a moment of realization.

“I was, uh,” Fareeha coughed awkwardly into her hand and gestured at the doctor, “Looking for my sweatshirt.” Judging by the heat climbing over her face, she was sure she was blushing, but it couldn't be nearly as bad as the red flush going all the way to the doctor's ears.

Doctor Ziegler dropped her pen and stood from her desk. “I'm- I'm so sorry. I didn't take it on purpose; it was in my basket somehow and I'd already brought it to my room,” the doctor made her way around the desk, pulling her arms out of the sleeves-

“It's fine-”

“-and I was going to give it back to you, but it's been so cold recently in my office and this is so much warmer than anything I have- ah, what am I doing, I should wash it first-”

“Doctor-”

“I'm sorry, it was highly inappropriate that I kept it, not to mention unprofessional, and I-”

Fareeha clamped both hands down on her shoulders, the sleeves of the sweatshirt limp as the doctor's arms were still tucked underneath. “ _Angela_ ,” Fareeha said through her laughter, finally getting her attention. “It's okay, really. If you like it that much you can keep it. I have others.”

“No, I can't do that-”

Fareeha squeezed her shoulders, gentle but firm. “You can if I give it to you.”

They stared at each other, one determined, the other guilty. And then the doctor did the cutest thing by tugging the sweatshirt up to cover her whole head and groaning into it. “Mein Gott, I'm so embarrassed.”

Fareeha pinched the front of the sweatshirt and tugged it down. As endearing as it was to see that ponytail sticking out of the top, Fareeha couldn't stand for the doctor to feel guilty over something so small. Even with the sweatshirt out of the way, the doctor still had her face in her hands, which she parted slightly to look back at her.

“I mean it, it looks nice on you.” Fareeha rubbed at the back of her neck, wondering if her own blush had reached her ears by this point. She certainly didn't need any sweatshirts now for how hot she was feeling. She tried and failed to stamp out the thought that the sweatshirt looked nice on the doctor mostly because it belonged to her.

“You're taking this awfully well.”

Fareeha's lips quirked. “It's just a sweatshirt.” Then she looked away, feeling a bit sheepish. “And I could never be mad at you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Keep it,” Fareeha said, adding with a wink, “That way I can have my eye on you more often.”

Angela blinked at her, and then pulled the sweatshirt around her head again with another, louder, groan, the Udjat symbol stretching across the front. “Okay I deserved that.” She tugged the sweatshirt down on her own and said promptly, “One condition.”

Fareeha smiled teasingly, “Oh, so you're the one making deals now?”

The doctor continued, apparently determined, “When we're not on a mission, you have to call me Angela from now on. You've been with us for eight months and I'd like to think we've known each other long enough to move to a first name basis.” _Especially now that you're giving me your sweatshirt_ went unsaid.

Fareeha opened her mouth to respond and then closed it right away. Truthfully she'd kept to the formality as a sort of barrier against her wayward feelings. But, if her heart rate was any indication, that hadn't been entirely effective anyway.

Fareeha relented, nodding. “Okay.”

Angela's answering smile made it worth the effort. After they watched each other silently for a moment, Fareeha cleared her throat and stepped back toward the door. It was that or step forward and pull the doctor into her arms. “I'll, uh, let you get back to your work.”

Angela nodded, a soft smile on her lips. She had her arms back in the sweatshirt's sleeves and her hands resting in the front pouch. “Good night, Fareeha. And thank you.”

“Good night... Angela.”

 

...

 

“Did you find your sweatshirt?” Hana asked, not taking her eyes off the screen as her thumbs flew over the controller.

“I did.” Fareeha was doing her best but mostly she was just getting good at jumping back onto the platforms after getting knocked off. Hana and Lucio seemed to be cutting her some slack, content to smash each other across the arena while Fareeha clumsily followed along behind.

It was Lucio who asked, “Did you get it back?”

The question caught her off guard. “Erm-”

Hana's eyes lit up and zeroed in on Fareeha, which Lucio took advantage of by finally knocking her clear off screen.

“Haha, score!” Lucio reached out with his fist.

Fareeha rolled her eyes and bumped it with her own.

 


	3. Loved, 1 of 2

Fareeha wakes to a very real problem. Even before her eyes fully open, she is aware of a distinct lack of a body within her arms, and stretching out an arm reveals a distinct lack of said body even in the bed.

She rubs her eyes and confirms she is alone. With a deep sigh and a small pout, she manages to sling her feet over the edge of the bed and stand. Stepping outside the bedroom, she zeros in on the light coming from the office.

Angela’s face is illuminated by a pair of monitor screens, and she looks up as soon as Fareeha steps through the doorway. She starts to look apologetic until her eyes drop and brows raise, and it’s only then Fareeha remembers she’s only wearing boxers. 

But she’s too tired to feel smug about that; there’s a reason she’s even out of bed in the first place and it’s sitting right in front of her looking entirely too lovely to be anywhere but in her arms.

Angela’s blonde hair is pulled in a haphazard ponytail, black-rimmed reading glasses sitting pretty on her nose, and as Fareeha stalks forward she’s able to confirm that there is nothing underneath her white tank top.

“Yes, dear?” Angela says, lips parting after the words are out and, with noticeable effort, she blinks once before raising her eyes to meet Fareeha’s. Just in time to catch on to Fareeha’s intent, an arm already reaching to hook under her knees. “Wait, Fareeha, I’m not ready to-”

Angela tries to squirm away, but the soldier is nothing if not determined. Fareeha catches her easily, an arm around her shoulders and another under her legs, lifting her for only a moment and Angela’s mouth clamps shut as Fareeha takes a seat in the chair and sets her right in her lap.

One arm wrapped securely around Angela’s stomach, Fareeha uses the other to flick the lever under the seat to lower it. It jostles them, sets Angela firmly against her. Besides the tank top, Angela is only wearing white cotton panties. Fareeha’s breath catches in her throat with the way Angela’s bare legs lay atop hers.

Angela’s laugh is soft and warm, and Fareeha can’t help but feel her heart swell at the pleased sound in it. Pleased because of her. Angela reaches up to pat her on the head and kiss her temple.

“You’re awfully grumpy when you’re tired, you know?” Angela teases, and Fareeha nuzzles into her neck thinking no, no, she’s really not grumpy anymore. She can’t be grumpy when she’s right where she wants to be.

Fareeha wheels them back to the desk, arms snug around her lover, chin hooked on her shoulder. “What’re you working on?” she asks, her first complete sentence since waking up. It’s an improvement, at least.

The doctor adjusts herself in Fareeha’s lap, getting comfy. “Just doing some reading. I haven’t had time to catch up on some of these recent studies.”

Fareeha squints, but the medical jargon hurts more than the light from the two screens, so she just grunts – she’s _not_ always grumpy when she’s tired, dammit – and buries her face in Angela’s neck. Angela has relaxed fully against her and Fareeha can feel her quiet laugh. Gentle fingers thread through her hair, scratch at her scalp. Maybe she shudders a little under the touch, but if Angela notices, she doesn’t say anything.

Fareeha simply holds her like she is, measuring time by inhales and exhales, by the slow, thoughtful scratches on her scalp and around her ear, by the brief kisses on her forehead that make her lose count of it all. She’s still tired enough she might be able to doze off right there. But she doesn’t really want to sleep now, not with how much she’s enjoying Angela’s weight in her lap, the fingers in her hair.

She sighs contently into Angela’s neck, feeling warm and safe and loved.


	4. Home

Outside the security exit, Fareeha rolled on the balls of her feet. She checked her phone for the time, lips thinned as it changed to the next minute. Just as she was putting it back into her pocket, it vibrated with a text.

_Just landed._

As safe as flying was supposed to be, the tiny ball of anxiety in Fareeha's heart eased. She texted back, _Okay. I am here._

She put the phone in her pocket, only for it to vibrate again a minute later.

_Ugh, they're moving so slow. I can't wait to see you._

_No need to rush, I'm not going anywhere :)_

Angela texted back a series of hearts that made Fareeha smile. She slid the phone into her pocket and tried to control the adoring expression she'd been making at it.

The minutes felt like an eternity by the time she finally saw that blonde pony-tail appear through the corridor. The crowd parted between them and their eyes met with matching smiles. Fareeha's heart kicked double-time as Angela closed the distance in a half-jog. She collided with Fareeha's chest and uttered a groan of contentment.

“Oh, I'm so happy to see you.”

“Ya amar,” Fareeha murmured into her hair, returning the embrace, warmed beyond measure by the return of her other half. “I've missed you.”

Angela's sigh was full of relief and fondness, nuzzling a little further under Fareeha's chin.

When they parted, Fareeha plucked her wife's shoulder bag away from her and onto her own shoulder. “Where's your carry-on?”

“It was a full flight, so I had to check it. We'll have to head to baggage claim first.” Angela pouted at her own words, eyes tired.

Fareeha wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her snugly into her side, and steered her in the right direction. Angela leaned into her, sliding an arm around her waist.

“How was the conference?”

“Good. Long.” Angela grumbled a little more and Fareeha relented her questioning. She'd be more talkative after some food and rest.

When they found the right terminal, it took a few minutes before the belt started moving. Angela remained leaning against Fareeha, who had snuck a hand up the back of her jacket to rub circles over the small of her back.

Angela bit back a yawn. “I'm going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

Fareeha reluctantly stilled her hand. When Angela fell asleep after traveling she was _out_. “I'm not sure if I can carry you and your luggage out of here. Not unless I throw you over my shoulder.”

Angela chuckled. “I have no doubt you'd manage it, but I'll try not to make you do that.”

The familiar black suitcase finally appeared, and Fareeha stepped forward to tug it off the carousel. Pulling the handle up, she linked fingers with Angela and the pair headed toward the parking lot.

Angela dozed on the drive home. At one point Fareeha reached over and placed a comforting hand on her leg. Before she could pull away, Angela took the hand in both of hers and linked their fingers, holding it in her lap.

When Fareeha pulled into the driveway she had to extract her hand from her sound asleep wife. Even after carrying the luggage inside and returning to open the passenger side door, Angela had barely stirred, only managing to remove her seatbelt.

Fareeha rested a hand on her leg. “You want me to carry you inside, sweetheart?”

A small grunt confirmed Angela was at least conscious.

Fareeha squeezed her thigh. “Does Sleeping Beauty need a kiss to wake up?”

Try as she might to hide it, Angela's lips twitched. Chuckling, Fareeha took her chin gently between knuckle and thumb and leaned forward for a tender kiss.

She intended for it to be brief, but Angela drew her in, parting her mouth and sliding a hand into her hair. When Fareeha pulled away, both of them were breathing a little more heavily.

“I guess that worked.”

Angela smiled, eyes steadily holding hers. “Must be true love.”

Whatever Fareeha intended to respond with derailed into a stutter. She ducked her head, shuffled Angela into her arms, and carried her out of the car.

Arms linking around her neck, Angela was practically beaming at the reaction she'd garnered. “Are you blushing?”

“No.”

“Yes you are.”

“We're married. You can't make me blush anymore.”

Angela giggled, practically swinging her legs, and she kissed Fareeha's heated cheek. Her giggling halted as soon as Fareeha stepped through the door.

“Is that dinner I smell?” Angela whispered, sighing heavenly.

“Mhm.”

“I knew there was a reason I married you.”

Fareeha gave her a lopsided smile. “True love?”

“True love for your cooking.”

“I can accept that.” She did enjoy cooking, even more so when there was someone to enjoy the results with. “Let me see if it's ready.” Fareeha set her down on the couch and went to the kitchen to check the crockpot. When she came back, Angela had removed her shoes and was resting against the cushions in a posture that could only be described as blissful.

“About thirty minutes,” Fareeha informed as she sat down next to her. She propped an elbow on the back of the couch and stared at her near-comatose wife.

Angela grunted. “You'll have to keep me awake.”

“Is that your way of asking me to make out with you? Did I not break the spell the first time?”

Angela's eyes popped open and crinkled with amusement while a hand flew up to cover a laugh. Fareeha found the look endearing. “I didn't actually mean it that way, but I certainly wouldn't mind.”

“Now who's blushing?”

Angela bit her lip and swatted the back of her hand against Fareeha's shoulder.

Fareeha winked. She slid an arm under Angela's legs, pulling her into her lap. “Come here, habibti.”

Angela sighed warmly at the endearment and leaned in for a kiss as her arms circled Fareeha's neck.

Fareeha's hand reached to the back of Angela's head and pulled the tie gently out of her hair, filling her hand with the cascading locks. She drew her wife closer in her lap, shivering as nails scratched at the back of her neck.

“I missed you,” Angela cooed. Her palms slid over Fareeha's neck and along her broad shoulders, fueled only with the desire to touch her, to feel the strength and warmth shifting under her hands.

Time was lost in gentle sighs and soft caresses. At some point Angela pulled back, catching her breath. She dropped her forehead down and threaded fingers into Fareeha's hair.

More minutes passed before Fareeha reluctantly broke the silence. “Food's probably done.”

“I don't want to move.”

“Okay.”

Angela drew back enough to stare into her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. “But I am very hungry.”

Fareeha smiled back. “Let's eat, and then we can go to bed, hm?”

They meandered into the kitchen together and each served themselves a bowl. With the first spoonful Angela appeared to have ascended, and Fareeha took great pleasure in watching her eat the rest of it.

The same calm silence that was with them in the car – even with Angela asleep for most of the ride – settled over them like a warm blanket. They didn't speak more than a few murmured words, communicating with touch instead. Angela tucked a strand of hair behind Fareeha's ear, brushed fingers over her arm. Fareeha rubbed circles at the small of Angela's back, bumped her forehead into her shoulder.

When they were done eating, Fareeha placed their bowls in the sink. She took Angela's hand, gently drawing her out of her chair and leading her toward the bedroom.

Angela went to their dresser while Fareeha flopped onto the bed.

“Can I wear one of your shirts?”

Fareeha cupped both hands behind her head and smiled cheekily. “Only if you sleep with me.”

Angela gasped indignantly, mouth hanging open as she dug around in one of the drawers. She pulled out a shirt, hugged it to her chest, and waggled her eyebrows at her wife before retreating to the bathroom. Fareeha's laugh followed her.

Once they were both washed up, changed, and under the covers, Angela half-draped herself over Fareeha, head on her chest and legs tangled.

“Comfortable?”

A blissful groan was the only response.

Fareeha chuckled, kissed the top of her wife's head, and let sleep gently take them.

 


	5. Rainy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by some fanart located over yonder:
> 
> homu-satan.tumblr.com/post/152316045582/lazy-rainy-afternoons-are-my-aesthetic

Angela was lounging on the couch, scrolling idly through her tablet, when a shadow loomed near. She looked up just as Fareeha swooped down and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Holding two steaming mugs in her hands, Fareeha sat down on the couch and placed the mugs on the coffee table.

"Made some hot chocolate, if you want some. Needs to cool for a minute."

Angela brushed a hand on Fareeha's arm as she sat forward to look into the mugs. "That looks wonderful, thank you darling."

A warm hand came to rest on Angela's thigh, and she lifted her chin expectantly. Fareeha kissed her tenderly and lovingly, stroking an affectionate thumb along her leg.

When they parted it was with gentle smiles and adoring eyes.

A soft patter against the window turned their attention over the back of the couch. Rain was beginning to fall, at first gently but gradually increasing in tempo.

They watched it silently for a time, and then Angela picked up her tablet and returned to browsing and reading. Fareeha yawned and stretched, dropping her arms along the back of the couch to watch her for a bit.

At some point she must have dozed off. She felt a kiss on her cheek and opened her eyes to find Angela sipping hot chocolate and giving her a cute smile. "You should lie down and take a nap if you're tired, Schpätzli."

Considering the idea, Fareeha brought a hand to Angela's face and cupped her chin, brushing a thumb across her cheek and the corner of her lips. Her touch lingered as Angela leaned into it. With a hummed affirmative, Fareeha dropped her hand and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. After stretching out, Angela helped her arrange the blanket and then patted her lap. Fareeha obligingly dropped her legs there and Angela propped her arms on top along with her tablet.

Fareeha didn't doze off this time and simply watched Angela as she continued to scroll through her tablet. A strand of hair fell loose and Angela tucked it back behind her ear, only for it to fall out again a few minutes later. As she studied her tablet, she'd wrinkle or twitch her nose, or place a fist under her chin and lean closer.

Eventually, when she caught Angela yawning, Fareeha smirked. "Maybe you should take a nap, too."

It took Angela a moment to pull her attention away from her tablet. When she finally did, Fareeha lifted the blanket away from her torso and patted her stomach.

The look she was given told her Angela found the idea all kinds of appealing. Angela set her tablet and mug aside and crawled on top of her. Fareeha held the blanket out of the way, and then dropped it over the two of them.

Angela snuggled in against her chest while Fareeha tucked the blanket around them and wrapped Angela in her arms. Angela sighed and relaxed fully, listening to the raindrops and the steady beat of Fareeha's heart.


	6. Loved, 2 of 2 (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW
> 
> Continuation of Chapter 3

Fareeha kisses Angela's neck, and she squirms.

“Am I distracting you?”

Angela laughs lightly and drops her head back against Fareeha's shoulder, glancing at her beneath her glasses. “You walk in here half-naked, put me in your lap, and wonder if I'm distracted? I think I've read the same sentence eight times, and I still don't know what it means.”

Fareeha hides a sheepish smile against Angela's neck. “I just wanted to hold you.”

“Mm. You're sweet.” The low tone catches in Fareeha's ears. Fingers thread through her hair and heat settles in her stomach. Angela shifts her legs, thighs rubbing together, and Fareeha can't help but slide her palms over them.

She swallows and steadies herself even as her hands keep drifting to Angela's inner thighs. “If you need to finish, I can go back-”

“No.” Nails scrape lightly against her scalp. Angela moves into her touch, back arching gently. Deliberately. “No, I _really_ want you to stay.”

The hand in Fareeha's hair tightens, drawing her back gently enough so Angela has only to turn her head to pull her into a kiss that's soft and sweet. They both sigh into each other while Fareeha's hands continue marking warm paths over Angela's thighs.

Moving restlessly in Fareeha's lap, Angela grinds gently back against her. Fareeha pulls away from the kiss, breath coming out in a hot rush as her lips graze over Angela's ear.

“Now who's distracting?”

Content and smug as a cat, Angela bites her lip in an attempt to control a smile. She moves both hands to grip the chair's armrests as Fareeha nibbles on her ear and kisses down her neck.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Fareeha murmurs in a low husk.

“Your hands, Fareeha. Gott it feels so good when you touch me.”

Fareeha's hands slide over her hips, fingers dipping into the waistband of her panties and teasing around underneath, tugging on the fabric. Then her hands move underneath Angela’s tank top, fingers splaying over her ribs. Angela sucks in a breath, pushing into the touch.

“Yes,” Angela breathes on a sigh. She tilts her head away, exposing her neck.

Fareeha drags her tongue down Angela's throat, pausing to suck and nibble with her teeth. Her hands move over her breasts, massaging gently. She takes the hardened nipples between her thumb and forefinger, pinching and rolling until Angela is pressed flush against her.

Angela doesn't appear to be aware that her legs have parted, falling slack to either side of one of Fareeha's own. Fareeha hides a smirk in Angela's neck and raises her leg onto the ball of her foot until Angela's breath catches.

“Oh-Th-that's-” She rubs herself against Fareeha’s leg and falls slightly forward with a gasp, pleasure shuddering lightly through her.

Fareeha curls around her, cradling her breasts, and nuzzles into her neck. “Hm?”

Angela whimpers. One hand falls atop Fareeha’s knee while the other still grips the armrest, arms tensing as she grinds down. The strap of her tank top slides loosely off her shoulder and Fareeha quickly lavishes the bare skin with open, wet kisses.

Feeling the dampness spread through Angela's underwear, Fareeha groans her appreciation and drops a hand from Angela’s chest and brushes down her stomach. The muscles clench and Angela moans.

“Fareeha... I need you to touch me... please...”

“Anything you need.”

Fareeha dips her hand under Angela's panties and Angela moves into it. Fareeha's fingers slide easily between slick folds, getting trapped between Angela's grinding hips and her own thigh. Angela moans, a string of Swiss praises and curses spilling from her lips.

“I should've known medical journals would get you all hot and bothered. What was it you were reading?” Fareeha bumps the desk with the leg Angela isn't using, stirring the computer out of its screensaver mode. She leans toward the monitor, squinting. “ _Removing Part of Skull After Severe Head Injury Brings Mixed Results_.”

Fareeha grimaces at the same time Angela moans too loudly and rubs herself harder against Fareeha's hand and leg. When Fareeha stills, Angela's shoulders start to shake and she gasps with barely controlled laughter.

Fareeha clicks her tongue. “You're terrible.”

Angela's trying to hold the sound in, but it just makes her trip over it with a snort. She immediately covers her mouth with a hand, eyes squeezing shut.

Fareeha can't help but smile. “I'm not one to kinkshame, but...”

Angela snorts again and giggles spill out past her fingers. “ _Gottverdammt_ ,” she gasps. She falls back against Fareeha, whose hand is still nestled between her thighs, touch gentle. Attempting to gather herself, Angela twists to look at her through shining, amusement-filled eyes. “Kiss me before I do something else.”

With a low chuckle, Fareeha obliges, letting herself be drawn in. It starts slow, smile meeting smile, gradually deepening until the smiles have disappeared and all that's left are needy, open-mouthed kisses and sliding tongues.

Angela's glasses get knocked askew. She pauses to tear them off, tossing them onto the desk before slanting her head for a deeper, more demanding kiss. Fareeha lets Angela take control while her fingers slide deeper.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?”

“ _Ja, bitte_.”

Fareeha presses a finger inside, pausing at the second knuckle before pumping slowly. When she can ease her finger all the way in, she adds a second, and Angela's hips buck in response. Fareeha kisses down her jaw and neck to her collarbone where she's flushed and hot, her chest heaving with each of her pants.

“You're so beautiful,” Fareeha whispers. “You make the most beautiful sounds.” Angela shudders and Fareeha switches to Arabic, continuing to shower her in praise.

Angela can't even tease her for being a flatterer. Her voice is lost behind quick gasps that turn into cries each time Fareeha's fingers drive harder inside her. She whimpers, rolling her hips with every thrust, which Fareeha begins to mimic behind her. Fingers curl and Angela's breath hitches.

“ _Fareeha_ -”

Shuddering hard, rocking into Fareeha’s hand, Angela’s body tenses and she climaxes with a cry. Fareeha cradles her, murmuring adoration and affection while Angela jerks and shakes and grinds fervently into her hand. Then she stiffens, a soft sound in the back of her throat, just before falling slack into Fareeha’s lap.

Fareeha's hands rub over her in soothing pets and caresses. Breathing deeply, Angela turns onto her side and curls up, nestling against Fareeha.

“You're smiling,” Fareeha observes, arms wrapping around her.

Angela hums and nuzzles into her neck. Fareeha kisses her temple.

“Okay, so maybe it's not the medical article that does it for you.”

Angela giggles and kisses her neck. “As interesting as it is to me, it's definitely not what gets me worked up.”

“Good to know.”

“How about you, _Schpätzli_?” Angela purrs, hand drifting down from Fareeha's shoulder. “What does it for you?”

Fareeha is gazing at her lovingly before an idea strikes her, and a lopsided smirk starts to grow. “Jus-”

Angela's hand flies up to cover Fareeha's mouth. “Don't you dare.”

Mirth shines in Fareeha's eyes as she gently pulls Angela's wary hand away. “Just you,” she finishes, and pecks her on the forehead.

With an exasperated look, Angela lowers her hand and rubs along Fareeha's collarbone. “You were almost in trouble.”

It's Fareeha's turn to look smug as a cat when she grins. “How much trouble?”

Angela holds her eyes as she lifts herself onto her knees and straddles Fareeha's hips. She slides her hands down to Fareeha’s chest, retracing back up her neck and into her hair. She leans over Fareeha, eyes hooded and lips parted, and she breathes, “So much trouble.”

Still smiling, Fareeha is nothing less than entranced as Angela dips forward and kisses her. Her breasts are cupped and fondled before hands slide down to her stomach, blunt nails scratching.

Fareeha’s hands grasp Angela’s hips, slide under her panties. Angela catches her wrists and sets them on the armrests as she slides out of Fareeha’s lap and onto her knees in front of her.

Fareeha rolls the chair back to give her room. Angela hooks her fingers in Fareeha's boxers, urging her to lift up before pulling them down and tossing them aside.

Fareeha stares down at her and licks her lips. “I'm going to make a mess on your chair,” she cautions.

Angela looks up through her lashes, hands sliding along the tops of Fareeha’s thighs. Her mouth curves in a sly smirk. “Mmm, you certainly are. Can you scoot closer for me, dear?”

Fareeha shifts her hips to the edge of the chair, legs parting wider, and grips the desk behind Angela’s head with a hand. Angela stays right where she is, breath now fanning the apex of Fareeha's thighs.

Angela, of course, is a damn tease, and moves away from where Fareeha needs her most. When she lowers her head, it's to kiss the inside of Fareeha’s legs.

Despite the urgency in her body, Fareeha does nothing to rush Angela, free hand brushing gently over blonde hair. It’s still in its tie, strands falling loose, and Fareeha takes care to pull them out of Angela’s way and tuck them behind her ears, lingering there with an affection touch.

Angela's mouth continues to meander across Fareeha's thighs, licking and sucking wet paths, paying special attention to the outlines of muscle. Her hands know every sensitive place, the inner flesh of Fareeha’s thighs, the undersides of her knees, the lower area of her stomach, and soon it’s getting to be too much.

“Angela,” Fareeha groans, hand sliding down the back of her lover’s neck.

“That’s what I want to hear,” Angela whispers, and finally _finally_ she parts Fareeha’s folds with a hand and sets her mouth on her.

Fareeha tenses with pleasure on the first touch before breathing deep to calm and relax her body as best she can. She tilts her hips and widens her legs, encouraging.

It’s a slow build, Angela’s ponytail shifting subtly with her movements between Fareeha’s legs. They speak and respond through touch. When Fareeha moves a hand across Angela’s upper back, it’s answered by an affection touch along her thighs. When Fareeha curls her fingers into Angela’s shoulders, Angela presses and strokes her tongue over a sensitive spot that sets her body alight and shuddering.

When Angela moans against her, Fareeha’s eyes squeeze shut, struggling to keep her hips still for fear of rolling the chair away or into Angela. Her thighs quiver, feet firmly planted on the floor. Pleasure ratchets through her in a sharp shiver.

“ _Angela_ ,” she gasps, head dropping back and then she’s curling forward as Angela doesn’t let up. Hand clutching the back of Angela’s head, Fareeha is mostly silent through her climax save for a final gasping cry, and she’s shuddering in relief from head to toe.

Angela strokes all along her legs and stomach in soothing caresses. When Fareeha eventually comes down from her high, Angela’s arms are wrapped around her waist, lounging against her lap while placing kisses leisurely over her stomach.

Angela murmurs, “How was that, my love?”

Fareeha hums a positive note, the only thing she’s capable of at the moment. The assurance isn’t necessary. It’s a simple desire to communicate, to listen, to express affection.

“Come here,” Fareeha mumbles, opening her arms. Angela crawls back into her lap and curls up as Fareeha nuzzles and kisses her cheek.

They rest in contented silence for a long while, brushing touches and soft kisses.

“Time for bed?”

“Mhm.”

Neither of them move.

Angela then asks, “How are your legs?”

“What legs?”

Angela snorts and giggles. Fareeha smiles at the sound.

“Here. I’ve got this.” Fareeha’s arms tighten around Angela, and then she uses her feet to roll the chair around the desk and toward the door. Their progress is halted when the chair bumps into the door frame, startling a snort from Angela.

Fareeha keeps trying to angle the chair through, continuing to fail and prompting more laughter from Angela.

“What? This was a perfectly acceptable solution.”

“You can’t even get through the door.”

Fareeha stops in defeat, arms draped down the sides of the chair, and pouts. Angela fixes her smile behind a hand and gives Fareeha a sympathetic peck on the lips.

“Come on,” Angela says encouragingly, standing up and tugging on Fareeha’s hand.

Fareeha sighs and hefts herself out of the chair, allowing Angela to pull her toward their bedroom. They step into the bathroom for a quick shower to wash off, and afterwards they help each other pick out fresh pajamas.

Fareeha follows Angela into the bed. Finally curled up together under the blankets, they lie in the middle facing each other.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your reading,” Fareeha says, eyelids heavy, but she fights to keep them open because she wants to look at Angela as long as possible.

Angela has a hand on Fareeha’s cheek, a thumb brushing idly across her lips and chin. “No you’re not.”

The corner of Fareeha’s mouth twitches beneath Angela’s thumb. “I just like being next to you.”

A small smile grows on Angela’s face. She lifts her head and gently, tenderly, lovingly, kisses Fareeha on the lips. She lingers there, softly, sweetly, so in love with this woman she never wants to part from her.

When she does pull away, barely an inch, Fareeha’s eyes are closed and relaxed. Angela returns to place kisses all over her face. Her cheek, her nose, her forehead and eyelids.

Then she tucks herself in against Fareeha, head under her chin, heart full of warmth and light. Fareeha slides an arm over her waist with a whispered endearment that Angela barely makes out, but she smiles just the same.

And the next hours are left to dreams.


	7. Steady

Pharah stood tall and stoic in the midst of the rubble, helmet under an arm. Her suit was dirty and scratched. A long cape would look appropriately dramatic swirling behind her, Mercy thought as she approached and came to stand beside the soldier. Pharah acknowledged her presence with a small tilt of her chin.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. With a silent, weary sigh, Mercy realized forlornly that a swirling cape wouldn’t work as there was not even a breeze to carry it. The air hung heavy and stagnant, dust clinging to the remains of what was once a small omnic community.

When Pharah finally spoke, her voice was rough and scratchy. “We were too late.”

Mercy lowered her eyes. ’ _We can’t save everyone_ ’ felt like hollow words, ones Mercy had heard enough times herself. Even if Pharah was new to Overwatch, she was still a veteran. Both of them were old enough, had been fighting long enough, to know the truth.

The truth still hurt.

They’d deployed as soon as they received word of Talon agents in the area, but they hadn’t been fast enough to disarm the bomb. To say she’d been shaken by the blast was a severe understatement. Mercy had watched in wide-eyed horror as hundreds of lives were lost in the blink of an eye.

Pharah had been the one to draw her out of her daze. All it took was that confident gaze and a quick hand signal to steady her.

_With me._

Mercy noticed a line of blood staining Pharah’s cheek. They’d spent hours after the explosion clearing the area of Talon agents, and then helping to rescue those trapped in the rubble.

Without worrying if it was her blood or someone else’s, Mercy was already turning the Caduceus Staff toward her. As soon as the golden light enveloped the Raptora suit, she wondered belatedly if the assistance would be unwelcome. _Some_ soldiers – a few names came readily to mind – had a thing about holding on to their pain.

But when Pharah’s eyes closed, relief was clear on her face, and she visibly relaxed with a deep breath. After Mercy turned off the beam, Pharah’s head tilted toward her. The blood was still there, but there was a smile next to it as well.

Pharah turned and placed an armored hand on her shoulder. Mercy’s heart fluttered under the touch.

“Come,” Pharah said, and the steel was back in her voice. Strength. Resolve. “There is still work to do.”

Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, Mercy nodded and followed her back to the ship.

…

Fareeha bolted upright, breath leaving her in quick gasps. She brought shaking hands in front of her and stared at them blankly. After what felt like hours but could only be seconds, she dragged them over her sweaty face.

_A dream. It was just a dream._

Trying to block the images of the nightmare, Fareeha tossed the blankets aside and quickly dressed in warm workout clothes. After grabbing her hand wraps, she hurried through the watchpoint halls to the gym.

It was still early in the morning, even too early for Zarya to be there, and she found the gym empty and cold. Anxious thoughts had her wanting to go straight to the punching bag, but, thinking of how Zarya would chide her, she picked up a jump rope first to warm up.

The steady tap of the rope against the floor wasn’t enough to distract her, and bits of the dream came back. There’d been an explosion, bright and fiery. She’d been running right through it, through different buildings and staircases, flames all around, fuzzy and warped in the way dreams sometimes appear. She’d been yelling for someone, a grip of fear tightening as the dream drew out.

Fareeha increased her pace, focusing on the burn in her legs until sweat collected on her skin and her body felt warm. She chucked the handles of the rope aside and went to wrap her hands.

She paused partway through the process, staring at her palm while holding the end of the wrap out with the other hand.

_Blood. There had been blood on her hands. Dripping down her fingers, coating her forearms._

Clenching her jaw, Fareeha shook her head sharply and finished wrapping her hands. She approached the punching bag and positioned her feet. She started with a simple jab and cross.

_Angela’s blood._

Soon Fareeha was laying into the punching bag with lightning strikes, delivering complex combinations that demanded her focus. Sweat rolled down her body, adrenaline pumping fire through her veins.

_Faster. She had to be faster._

Anger came to her unexpectedly. She heard herself growl as she pummeled the bag relentlessly, starting to throw punches that glanced off instead of landing squarely.

_What if she was too late again?_

“Fareeha.”

Zarya was standing next to her with a towel and a bottle of water. Her eyes showed concern, but all she said was, “Your shoulders are sagging. Time for a break, I think.”

Her focus broken, weariness settled over Fareeha like a wet blanket. Chest heaving, she lowered her arms, glanced to the towel, and nodded. “Yeah.”

After handing over the items, Zarya said, “If you need a spotter for your next workout, let me know. But maybe shower for now. Okay?”

Fareeha dabbed at her face with the towel before fully meeting her eyes. “Thanks, Aleks.”

Zarya nodded to her and went about warming up for her own workout.

Fareeha returned to her room to shower. The workout helped to get some of the anxiety out of her system, but her mind still returned to the images from the dream. She thought to go to the kitchen in search of food, but her feet carried her elsewhere.

The infirmary’s doors slid open automatically. The lights were on inside, and it was easy to spot the doctor on the far side of the room, standing on her tip-toes while reaching into a cupboard on the wall.

Not wanting to startle her, Fareeha scuffed her feet on the floor and cleared her throat.

Angela glanced over her shoulder. “Ah, Fareeha! It’s early, is everything alright?”

Fareeha opened her mouth to speak, but she paused when Angela turned to face her. The doctor was wearing a lab coat over a blue cotton shirt and pajama pants with snowflake patterns on them.

As if suddenly aware of how she was dressed, Angela stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and pulled the ends around in front of her. “Ignore the pajamas.”

Fareeha smiled slowly and retraced her gaze to Angela’s face. “They’re cute.”

Angela was blushing plain as day. She pulled her lips into her mouth to cover what almost looked to be a smile and pointedly raised her eyebrows. “Did you need something?”

Self consciousness taking hold, Fareeha looked down at her hands, loosely clasped together and fidgeting. She said the first thing she could come up with. “Uh, I was on the punching bag this morning and I may have strained my shoulders and wrists a bit.” Doctor Ziegler’s technology allowed them to heal minor wounds in the blink of an eye at minimal cost. It wasn’t entirely strange to request a simple check up to keep agents in top form in case they needed to deploy at a moment’s notice.

“Please tell me you wrapped your hands properly.”

Fareeha chuckled lightly. “Yes. I just pushed myself too hard, I think.”

Angela nodded as if that all made sense to her and gestured to a corner of the room. “Sit on the table and we’ll take a look.”

Fareeha did as instructed while Angela went to the nearby computer. After inputting some commands, a robotic arm extended from the ceiling and began shifting around Fareeha in precise movements.

“ _Scanning_.”

“Pretty early to be in the gym, even for you.” Angela came back around the exam table and leaned against it, arms crossed. “Something on your mind?”

Holding perfectly still for the computer to complete its task, a dozen different responses came to Fareeha’s mind, most of them far from the truth. She looked down at her hands, resting on her thighs. “Trouble sleeping.”

“ _Scan complete_.”

They waited in silence as the arm extended a device that matched the end of the Caduceus Staff, albeit much smaller. It retraced the path of the scanner, firing a thin beam of golden light at whatever microscopic problem it had found. It worried Fareeha slightly that it seemed to be finding so many things to fix, but she chose not to comment on it. Data was appearing on one of the screens, but Angela didn’t seem to be paying it much attention.

“I also had trouble sleeping,” Angela said and gestured at her pajamas with a half smirk. “Couldn’t go back to sleep so I’ve just been doing inventory for the past hour or so.”

Fareeha was still staring at her hands while listening. By the time she realized the computer had finished, Angela was standing in front of her, taking Fareeha’s hands into her own.

“You have beautiful hands,” Angela said in a quiet tone. “You should take care of them.”

Fareeha was on her feet so quickly it startled a gasp from Angela. Before the doctor could stumble more than a single step back, Fareeha’s arms wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“I dream…” Fareeha began, turning her face into Angela’s shoulder and hoping she wouldn’t be pushed away. “We couldn’t get to that bomb in time, and I dream about not being fast enough. That you-” Fareeha swallowed thickly and forced herself to continue. “That I can’t get to you.”

To her utter relief, Angela’s arms came around her, returning the embrace as she murmured softly in her ear, “I’m right here, Fareeha. I’m right here.”

Fareeha’s next exhale came out as a shudder. Angela repeated her words several times while rubbing her back, until at last Fareeha began to relax against her.

“Have you eaten anything yet this morning?”

“No.”

Angela took a step back and put her hands on Fareeha’s upper arms, squeezing lightly. “Then why don’t we go find ourselves something, hm?”

Suddenly having trouble meeting the doctor’s eyes, Fareeha nodded and rubbed at the back of her neck. “Sorry about, ah-”

“Fareeha.” Angela brushed her fingers against Fareeha’s hand, making her heart skip. “You don’t have to make up injuries to come and see me. In fact, I prefer to see you in here when you’re not injured.”

Flushing under the knowing look she was receiving, Fareeha smiled sheepishly. “Noted, Doctor.”

Feeling steadier on her feet, she left the infirmary with Angela at her side.


End file.
